sugar & spice
by whizz
Summary: it's a fantasy, or maybe a dream; it most certainly can't be real. -- naminé-centered


**game; **Kingdom Hearts II, Chain of Memories  
**pairing; **none  
**warnings; **AU  
**disclaimer; **I do not own Kingdom Hearts/Chain of Memories or any of the characters used.

**i**

A wonderful place, Naminé thinks, as the flowers colored in saturated reds and purples and yellows and _oh, such a pretty shade of yellow!_ sing her some lost lullaby, voices harmonizing in perfect sync with each other as the girl walks down the narrow and yet much too wide road leading to the Queen's castle, or the Mad Hatter's tea party, or maybe even a place she's never been to before.

Every step is a new adventure, she finds herself recalling the pretty butterflies buzzing to her, and so she puts a smile on her face and grabs a part of her creamy white, laced skirt in a hand much too pale and fragile-looking with the fingers of an artist's (long and lean - or so her papa always claims) and sings along, a little out of tune but with enough enthusiasm to make up for it.

And the Cheshire Cat grins, like he always does.

**ii**

Losing herself to the sweetest of rushes doesn't really feel all that bad; Naminé visits mostly out of habit by now, because it's a much too addicting thrill to stay away from it.

Besides, she's _expected, _she's _special, _she's _needed-_

("Painting the roses red, we're painting the roses red!").

They keep telling her that she reminds them of someone; a sweet girl, much like herself, with sunshine for hair and the sky for eyes and a beautiful chirruping voice that might as well be synonymous to saccharine.

"But then, what happened to her?" Naminé keeps wondering, time after time after time, but they always seem to fade into the thin, crispy air as soon as that question leaves her pale lips.

She's been here for a long time by now, and she's wondering if her mother is getting worried; she's probably stitching Naminés lilac cardigan up, the one that she accidentally torn at the shoulder when she fell off her bike in their pretty little garden covered in pastel-colors and warmth, sighing or sobbing and wishing for her little girl to come back home, safe and sound.

Her father is probably muttering curses, heavy wrinkles embedded in his tanned forehead as he drives round and round in their small town, looking for her and asking about her and driving himself more and more crazy with each passing second.

Pretty much like Naminé is right now; it's been so long and she's starting to realize it's not all fun and games and mushrooms with the power to change the size of her lithe form or birds with hammers for noses, looking at her with huge vivid eyes-

("_don't go that way, Naminé dear, you see - there was this girl once, so kind and considerate but she went that way, or well, maybe it some other way - anywho, we haven't seen her since_".)

Naminé is hearing rumors about a Queen, a powerful Duchess ruling this bizarre world of colorful strangeness, and apparently her title, followed by the _of hearts _doesn't exactly stand for the supposedly compassionate organ pumping red inside of her body.

For some reason, this Queen doesn't seem to think very highly of Naminé, and so she calls the girl to her magnificent castle, guarded by spell-bound Cards with soft-looking deadly sharp spears, all of them lined up in a perfect row, posture arched and straight as they watch her with cold, unblinking eyes.

"Off with her head, off with her head!" the Queen demands in a screeching tone, waving her hand wildly while stray locks of pitch-black hair stick to her sweaty, red-tinted forehead.

Naminé screams and runs and her dainty white skirt gets all dirty when she feels gravity betray her and she's pushed into the corner of the Queen's large garden although she could swear she was in the middle just now, the Cards looming threateningly above her.

Naminé doesn't like it one bit, really.

**iii**

Just an hour or two later she wakes up to a place where this certain shade of white seems to have exploded all over the place. She immediately recognizes the inside of Castle Oblivion, and wonders briefly how long she was out.

If she was, at all. Maybe _this _is the dream, and maybe that much too strange place she visited in her mind is the actual reality.

"Sleep well, princess?" Axel taunts with a mocking smirk, his brilliant hair colored in the brightest shade of scarlet imaginable contrasting almost painfully with the seemingly dead white. Naminé has to squint as she trains her gaze on him, careful not to make her eyes start bleeding due to the dazzling color.

She doesn't answer. She doesn't think long and hard about it; she most certainly does not _cry._

Naminé gets up, bare feet brushing against the smooth surface of the marble floor and she sits down, sketchbook in lap, liquid colors melting together on the blank papers, fueling her newfound inspiration.

Half a year almost passes and Sora's sleeping soundly in the capsule she's constructed herself, re-building his memories and growing with each day; Riku's out there somewhere, fighting the evil - or maybe the good, still too blind to see what it is that he truly is looking for; Kairi is sitting on their beloved island, counting the sand grains as they slip through her toes and waiting for her friends to come back.

Naminé's the only one who's stayed unchanged, no matter how many pictures she draws and rips out, crumpled papers piling up on the floor.

As she lays eyes upon Alice, one of the Princesses of Heart, she feels an untameable longing, so loudly echoing inside of the tiny confidants of her body it threatens to actually tear her apart.

How can a Nobody who isn't even supposed to feel in the first place experience such a powerful sensation, she wonders, and she watches the little girl with a ribbon perched on her gold-like locks of hair as she stomps her little foot down (it's decorated by a shiny, antique-looking shoe) and yells that this is _madness, _for everything that's holy's sake, it's complete madness! They're not supposed to be captured and used like this and somebody will come save them for sure and it's just _madness-_

("Well, isn't everything? Aren't everyone?")

-and Naminé thinks that she's probably right.

**iiii**

A/N; that was random, but it often is when it comes to inspiration sinking its claws in me and not leaving me alone. teehee~


End file.
